


Yankee Doodle

by earlgreytae



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom!Cas, Cas is a farmer, Crowley owns a pub, English!Cas, F/M, Full list of warnings in notes, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Michael isn't a dick, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Mutual Pining, Sam and Dean are pilots, Sammy has SHORT HAIR, Slow Burn, Some Fluff, WW2 AU, top!dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2018-12-02 12:51:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11509803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlgreytae/pseuds/earlgreytae
Summary: After Castiel's family was left torn apart and war struck out upon Europe once more, there seemed no hope left. However, in 1942, when the US Air Force arrives in his small village, Castiel meets two brothers who show him hope is not lost. At least for now.





	1. 1932 to 1939

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> This is my first destiel fic and I've absolutely loved writing it so far, so I hope you enjoy it.  
> Each chapter will be uploaded every 2-4 weeks.  
> Baron village is completely fictitious, along with Dean and Sam's company within the Air Force. Any other references to WW2 and the USAAF were done from my own research, and should be historically accurate (please let me know if not, so I can adjust). This story is not meant to romanticise the hard work and honour of any soliders who fought within WW2, it is purely an AU.  
> I have a full list of warnings in more detail [here](https://angelsweardeerstalkers.tumblr.com/post/163017409847/yankee-doodle-full-list-of-warnings) (some warnings contain spoilers).  
> If you have any questions, feel free to ask me on my [tumblr](https://angelsweardeerstalkers.tumblr.com/) or leave a comment.  
> Any fan art surrounding this fic, will be gratefully received. Please send it to me via my tumbr or PM me on here. I will credit you, if I use it.  
> A glossary of some mainly dialect words is in the end notes (let me know about any other words you don't understand).  
> A big thank you to my wonderful beta [franthewhovian](https://franthewhovian.tumblr.com/).  
> Thanks for reading and enjoy! x

_ Thursday _

_ Summer of 1932 _

_ England _

 

It was dawn, the best time for sitting on a fallen log and swinging your legs gently in the breeze. The sky was slowly mixing the dark of the night with the light of a new day. Castiel always found it sad that the stars disappeared then, but he was not here to stargaze anyway. He was waiting for the early training planes to take off in the nearby airfield. His position uptop his little hill ensured he could see the runway very clearly each morning.

 

This morning, they were still trying out a new protocol plane; rumour had called it a  _ Spitfire _ . Castiel gathered that this plane was nowhere near ready for commercial use, as they always spent too much time fiddling with various components before they launched her off into the sky. They’d been working on her for about a fortnight now and Castiel would always come to his little spot each morning to see if they’d finally launch her. He was certain that they would this morning because this morning was his birthday.

 

He was _ eight.  _ And this was his birthday treat.

 

Well,  _ was  _ before his annoying Mother found him-

“Castiel! What do you think you’re doing out ‘ere? At this ‘our!” she called, waving her tea towel about in the air.

 

“Sorry Mother,” he mumbled, hauling himself off the log and turning to face her.

 

“Come on,” she called again, gesturing her hand towards the farmhouse, “you still need to do your arithmetic. Michael will help you,”

 

“But Mother, it’s my birthday today,” Castiel moaned, looking back to the airfield.

 

“Lovely dear,” she muttered back, paying no attention.

 

“So can I stay, then?” Castiel questioned hopefully.

 

“What? Of course not. Get inside, before Michael has to go out on the field.” she replied with a stern look upon her face.

 

Castiel huffed, before running towards the farmhouse. He was greeted by Michael sitting in the kitchen, chewing on a bit of bread for his breakfast.

 

“You all right, Cassie?” he called, ruffling Castiel’s hair with one of his calloused hands.

 

“I suppose so,” Castiel murmured back, sitting down next to him. “Do you know that it’s my birthday today?” he added.

 

“Is it really? Sorry little one, I musta forgot. Well ‘appy birthday to you, all the same,” Michael smiled back.

 

“Thanks,” Castiel responded, ducking his head to his lap.

 

_ Everyone forgets his birthday. _

 

“Oh and Michael?” he asked, looking back up to his brother. “Mother said that you could help me with my homework,”

 

Michael raised his eyebrows slightly, before replying. “Well of course, ‘though I doubt I’d be much help to ya,”

 

“I’ll just go ask Anna instead then-” Castiel groaned, rising from his chair and searching through his schoolbag.

 

“No, No. I think I’ll be fine. What is it?” Michael interrupted, with a strange look of panic searing across his face for a mere second.

 

Castiel looked to him confused, but murmured “arithmetic,” while placing a small exercise book in front of his brother.

 

“Oh,” Michael replied, before opening the book wearingly.

Castiel soon realised that his brother had not the foggiest about long division or any arithmetic to be honest, but no one would let him find Anna, who he knew would know the answer. Instead, he was to try his hardest by himself, before being shunted off to school with his Mother and other brother Gabriel.

 

       Castiel eventually found her during in lunchtime sitting by herself, surrounded by daisy chains. There were daisies entangled in her red locks and tiny petals stuck randomly to her pinafore. She smiled sweetly towards a limp dandelion hanging in her hands, before blowing the seeds into the breeze and raising her head to spot Castiel gazing towards her.

 

“Anna!” Castiel called, jogging closer to her.

 

“Castiel,” she replied, ducking her head and twisting the stalk between her fingers.

 

“Where have you been?” Castiel enquired, trying to regain her attention.

 

“Sit please,” she responded, patting a patch of grass next to her with her hand.

 

“Okay,” Castiel murmured, sitting down cross legged upon the grass.

 

       They sat in silence for a short while, as Anna reached around to pick more daisies, before threading them together in some sort of daisy crown.

 

“Do you ever get bored here, Cassie?” she questioned, turning to place the crown utop Castiel’s head, which made him giggle slightly. Castiel looked down towards his lap, thinking for a moment, before replying. 

 

“No, not really. I like it here,”

 

“Seriously,” she gasped, fetching more daisies for what Castiel guessed will be a crown for herself, “you don’t ever think,  _ ‘Gosh, how boring it is to stay here in this little village for the rest of my life’ _ , like Mother and her Mother before that,”

 

“I don’t think it’s boring,” Castiel replied, his face furrowing with confusion of his sister’s strange talk.

 

“Of course, you wouldn’t Cassie. You still like watching those goddamn flying machines-” Anna added, before getting hushed by her brother, who grabbed her forearm lightly.

 

“Anna, don’t speak like that, it’s not good,”

 

“Oh come on Cassie-”

 

“ _ Also _ , they’re very interesting. I don’t see how watching them should be anything to be insulted over-”

 

“You can’t just have no aspirations in life.” Anna interrupted, hushing her brother. “I hate how Mother constantly talks of our futures here- I couldn’t stand it Cassie, I couldn’t stand having to be a farmer’s wife to one of  _ those _ boys,” Anna said, pointing towards the other village boys, who were kicking a stone about themselves. Castiel giggled slightly, before stopping himself and masking a stern look upon his face.

 

“Anna, being a farmer can’t be all that bad,”

 

“But Castiel, don’t you ever think about Father, I bet he’s seen the world by now-”

 

“Anna! Don’t be absurd, Father left us with no word and broke Mother’s heart. You know she’s never been the same since. I hope he’s  _ nowhere _ .” Castiel replied, with a harsh tone to his voice.

Their Father left their Mother in the late Spring of last year out of nowhere, with no notice. It left them broke and struggling. Michael quit school to look after the fields and Gabriel was soon to follow, when harvest came around. Their Mother, Naomi, never really recovered from the loss, reverting to hostility towards Castiel and Anna as some kind of coping mechanism. Castiel therefore hated his Father and all Anna’s silly talk about how, one day, she would do the same as Father did.  _ Leave. _

 

“Is this why you weren’t around this morning? Are you planning to run away? After everything Mother has been through-” Castiel growled, an anxious and gnawing pit growing in his stomach suddenly.

 

“Of course not!” Anna laughed throwing a stray daisy at Castiel’s face, which he batted away quickly. He was suddenly  _ not _ in the mood for fun.

 

“Anna-” he glared.

 

“Well not _ yet _ , anyway,” Anna said with a slight sing-song about her voice. “Happy Birthday, by the way, Cassie,” she added before standing up and walking away, leaving Castiel sitting on the grass confused and hurt.

 

_ Well at least she remembered his birthday. _

 

       Castiel didn’t see Anna for the rest of the day or the next. In fact, a whole week had passed without her. Castiel was growing more and more agitated and hushed murmurs over the whereabouts of his sister had started throughout the village. She couldn't of left.  _ Could she? _

 

However, Michael assured him that she was just grounded and wasn’t to come out of her room; Naomi had been ruthless after she told her that she wanted to leave someday. Castiel could only hope. Gabriel, on the other hand, was surprisingly quiet and tended to shrug his shoulders at Castiel's enquires, before disappearing into the village with his mates.

His Mother sat stoically in the kitchen, occasionally removing pins from her apron and stabbing them against her fingers lightly, before poking them back into her front. Her face held a glassy expression, as if she was constantly looking beyond him. Castiel gathered that she hadn’t spoken at all throughout the strange week, leaving Michael in charge of his younger siblings. So, Castiel daren’t try to start conversation with her. He just watched and allowed his childish mind to imagine what one of those pins could do to his fingers, or worse.

 

       By the time Friday came around, Michael finally asked Naomi if she needed any help with supper- cutting potatoes or what not. Silently, she averted her gaze from the stove to slowly glance around to her eldest son’s eyes. “No, thank you,” she replied quietly, before looking back to the stove. Michael wouldn’t have it this time though, pressing harder and asking his mother again more seriously. This, however, only enginited the slow burning ember of anger that Naomi had pent up throughout the week. She felt at a loss to the control of her children. Gently, she scooped a loose brown hair around her ear, and set her face to an aloof expression. Then, preceded to slam a wooden spoon against Michael’s thigh forcefully. Castiel resisted the temptation to whimper slightly at his brother’s pain.

 

“Do I need to repeat myself, Michael?” she exclaimed sternly.

 

Michael gulped slightly, “No, of course not Mother."

Naomi nodded slightly, with an air of superiority about her, before waving her spoon about in the air and adding, “Go! I don’t want you around at the moment. Take your brothers away and make yourselves useful at the pub. Come back before seven.”

 

“Yes, Mother. Of course, Mother,” Michael replied still frozen in his position.

 

“Well, don’t just stand there!” Naomi replied, fury growing in her voice.

 

“Yes-” Michael started, before quickly stopping himself and grabbing onto Castiel’s forearm limply. “Gabriel!” he called, before taking the both of them outside and down into the village.

 

The summer's eve was surprisingly crisp and the sky was a wash of pale blue. Castiel felt a small chill run down his spine from a passing breeze, as he watched his brothers follow idly ahead into the heart of their humble village; Michael was still rubbing his thigh slightly as he walked.

 

Baron was surprisingly quiet around this time of year. Its very being built around its surrounding farms and local produce. At this time of year, it was edging into the cusp of harvest time, so most men were still out on the fields making the last preparations. A few school girls hung washing outside their cottages with their mothers, humming a short melody as they did, but otherwise the village remained quiet and oddly peaceful.

 

A small, cheery, red-haired girl smiled and waved towards Castiel as they passed her playing in her garden. Castiel thought he recognised her from his class, so politely waved back and gave her a short smile. Gabriel proceeded to laugh under his breath and smirk towards his younger brother, much to Castiel's confusion, before arriving at Baron's local pub  _ 'The Black Hound'. _

 

It was a quaint building nestled between two old farmhouses and always seeming to be overflowing with folks, even on a day like this. Michael nodded towards some of the older fellows standing outside, puffing on their pipes, as they asked him how his crops were going along. He made idle conversation before ushering his brothers in through the small front doors. The bar always held a strong stench of malt and sweat, particularly emphasised by the growing heat of summer, but Castiel got used to it. He'd often been here with his Father when he was younger and knew the pub owner, a short, angry looking fellow called Fergus Macleod, quite well.

 

Awkwardly, he pushed his small body up upon one of the bar stools and leant his elbows upon the tacky surface of the bar. Fergus, or  _ Crowley _ as he liked to be known as, soon spotted the boys and ruffled Castiel's hair between his fingers lightly, before offering them some, frankly, dodgy peanuts. They kindly declined, much to Crowley's amusement, and asked if there was anything they could do to help in the meantime. Crowley set them to their usual job of counting meager tips, in the far corner of the bar.

 

"What brings you here fellas?" Crowley gruffly asked whilst coming over, after pouring a few pints.

"Eh, the usual. Ma's being touchy like," Gabriel replied, spinning a tuppence through his fingers.

 

"Gabriel!" Castiel gasped back. "I think she has right to. She's clearly upset 'cos of Anna,"

 

"Ah right, the bonnie lass. What she been up to now?" Crowley laughed back, grinning towards Castiel.

 

"She wants to run away, just like Father. How foolish?" Castiel huffed back.

 

"Doesn't sound like to bad an idea-" Gabriel smirked to himself, still spinning his tuppence.

 

"Now come on Gabriel, none of this crazy talk from you too. A farmer is a very responsible job 'round 'ere," replied Michael, putting his arm around Castiel.

 

"Yer 'round 'ere. 'Ere s'not where I wanna be," Gabriel murmured back, tossing his tuppence on to the pile of counted money. Crowley looked towards Gabriel, then to Michael with a brief glance of apprehension, but brushed it off easily and left them to their duty, whilst he went to go pour more pints.

  
  
  


_ Spring of 1938  _

_ England _

 

The sun was beating down upon the newly plowed fields, sometimes catching the light of the bright wild flowers that decorated the borderlines. The sky held a muted blue haze, as if it was looking through a filtered lense. Castiel had been working with his eldest brother all morning planting the new year's crops. Sweat trickled down his back slightly, as he squinted  through the sun rays to look towards his brother, who was finishing up the last of the potatoes.

 

“You hear the news Cassie?” Michael called, rubbing the remaining grime off his hands. 

 

“No?” Castiel replied, sticking his shovel in the earth to face his brother. 

 

“Gabe’s gone and done a runna,” Michael said, running the back of his forearm against his sweaty forehead.

 

“What!” Castiel called back, all colour draining from his face suddenly. “Seriously?” he added, chucking his shovel into a nearby wheelbarrow and walking over to meet his brother. 

 

“Yer, Ma’s ‘aving a fit-” Michael uttered.

 

“You need to go find him then!” Castiel interrupted, worry painted all over his face, “I’ll stay with Mother-” 

 

“Cassie, I wish it were that easy but he ain’t coming back. Crowley said he saw him up on the hills late last night, he’d gotta bag and everything like,” Michael added, slowly returning to his earlier job of planting potatoes. “You can still go see Ma if you like. Just come back soon to help me with the rest of the pots, yer?” 

 

Castiel greatly took this offer and ran towards their farmhouse as soon as possible, relieved to see his Mother sitting at the kitchen table. He was not so relieved to see her head buried in her trembling hands, though. Her hair was loosened from its usual bun to tumble around her shoulders in an unruly manner.

 

“Mother?” Castiel quietly enquired, stepping slowly towards her. Naomi sniffled slightly, before raising her head and pulling Castiel close towards her bosom. 

 

“Cassie,” she started, “don’t ever leave. You ‘ere me? Don’t ever leave.” 

 

“Of course Mother,” Castiel replied with a warm smile upon his face. 

 

“That’s me boy,” Naomi replied gently rubbing her thumb against his cheek, “can’t be losing another one of ya now, can I?” 

 

“No Mother. I’ll always be there.” 

 

That night, Castiel and Michael followed their usual routine of seeing Crowley at  _ ‘The Black Hound’ _ however, this time without Gabriel. This indeed caused quite a stir amongst the village residents. Last time someone ever dreamt of leaving village was their very own Father and that was seven years ago. People stayed where they belonged- where they’d grown up. Baron life was a simple life of course, but it suited the residents just fine, especially Castiel. He knew that they were farmers, always were and always will be. He just couldn’t understand how his Father, and now Gabriel, could see more to life. 

 

_ Maybe he was just naïve.  _

  
  


_ September  _

_ 1939 _

_ England _

 

“I can’t believe it,” Michael uttered solemnly, titling his paper to his lap and raising his head to the rest of his dysfunctional family, who were sitting around the kitchen table with him. 

 

“What love?” Naomi replied, placing her butter knife down to her plate. 

 

“We’re at bloody war with Germany,”

The rest of the cutlery fell to the table with a sharp clang. 

 

“W-what?” Castiel murmured, silently praying that he heard Michael wrong. 

 

“War?” Anna echoed, looking strangely confused, “why?” 

 

“I dunno Annie. Paper says that Hitler’s gone ‘n invaded Belgium,” 

 

“This is stup-” Anna started, before she stopped herself to the shrill of her Mother’s chair moving backwards. 

 

“Mother?” Castiel asked, getting up after her as she walked out the front door. Naomi glanced over to her youngest slightly as if she were going to reply, but she hastily decided against it and continued to walk out into the fields. “Mother-” Castiel started again going after her, but was briskly stopped by Michael placing his palm on Castiel’s shoulder and yanking him backwards slightly. 

 

“Don’t Cassie, it’s no use. Trust me,” Michael stated. 

 

“Why is she so upset?” Castiel replied, looking into Michael eyes with apprehension. 

 

“Well, we are at  _ war  _ now Castiel,” Anna responded snidely. 

 

“No, I didn’t mean that-” Castiel stumbled, his face growing with embarrassment. 

 

“Anna,” Michael retorted, looking dejectedly at his younger sister. 

 

“Look-” Michael started, before ushering Castiel to sit back at the table. “- I don’t think Ma’s ever told ya about Father, has she?” Michael explained. “I dunno why. Perhaps she never felt the need to after he left and all. Ya know, you being younglings like.” Castiel and Anna looked towards him blankly, their faces growing in confusion. 

 

Michael continued, “Father served on the Western Front during World War I when he was about twenty. Ma had just met him and then he was shunted ‘alf way across Europe to fight in a goddamn war with Germany. It broke her ‘art, it really did. She told me that Father would send her these letters every once and awhile, about how ‘orrible it was out there, about how another one of his mates had been killed in gory death, about how much he missed her. 

 

“She told me she’d spend hours worrying over whether he’d ever come home, just like all the other sweethearts in the village. It was dreadful really, always living in fear that a husband, or a son, or a brother, would maybe never come back.” Michael paused for a moment, focusing his gaze on a tiny farmer figurine high upon the mantelpiece. 

 

He exhaled slightly before starting again, “Father came back obviously. Hell, the first thing they did was get married and then two years later I was brought to the world. Then Gabe.” Michael’s voice cracked slightly at Gabe’s name, but he brushed it off quickly to add, “Then you two.” Michael smiled warmly at them both and ruffled Castiel’s hair in a loving manner. “A perfect family, eh?” Michael grinned, reminiscently, before laughing at himself. 

 

Castiel saw straight to his brother’s obvious pain. Lightly, he wrapped his hand around Michael’s forearm and gave him a quick hug. Anna tittered slightly, but soon stopped when Michael continued. 

 

“Mother always said that ‘owever perfect this family was, Father never came back quite right. I guess, that’s why he left. Not outta glory or money, or even to see somewhere new. Just  _ brokenness _ . Maybe starting his life over was the only cure he could see. I think he got so broken that he didn’t even care to think what it would to Ma.” Michael trailed off, holding his head high as if to stop tears from running down his face. 

 

Castiel sat silent for a while, still injesting the sad story of his Father’s past. It opened his eyes to it all really. Suddenly, his Father wasn’t a malicious, somewhat evil man, who left his family out of pure spite for a better life. No, his Father was purely  _ broken _ man, punished by the horrors of war that left a wound that never truly healed. Castiel felt a wave of guilt rush over him. 

 

He wished that he could talk his Father again, just once. Ask him why he kept it all locked up, plead for him to stay with his loved ones. But no, Castiel knew that he was just being naïve again.

 

A few months passed, as the days got shorter and the sky grew more grey. The village still tried to continue on as usual but Castiel could notice things were getting tighter. Less and less men went up to  _ ‘The Black Hound’ _ each night for a pint and Crowley even had to lower his prices. There was a sort of hushed murmur around the village. Locals were hearing tales of other village’s men already being taken away to Europe. Some wives were already complaining that  _ ‘weren’t enough basic produce up at the corner store anymore’ _ and many started to worry that they might starve. 

 

Naomi, much to Castiel’s peace of mind, thought that this was  _ ‘a load of codswallop’ _ and had told him many a time that  _ ‘we’ll been fine, love. Don’t ya worry’ _ . Although, this was all turned on its head when the next tragedy came.

 

Castiel and Michael had been working up on the fields all day as usual, removing the last of the crops from the earth. The sun was slowly setting in the sky as the air got crisper and Castiel’s breath started to appear as clouds. They arrived back home to the sight of their Mother crying at the kitchen table. Her hair was strewn out around her pale, tear-stained face, as she hiccupped a small breath before tearing up again. Castiel immediately ran up to her side and placed his arm around her shoulders. Michael followed suit and tilted his Mother’s face up to meet his eyes, before asking what had happened. 

What Naomi replied neither of them expected. 

 

_ Anna had left. _

Their family had become smaller than ever before, as if it were crumbling before Castiel’s very own eyes. Suddenly, he only had one sibling left. Michael. Steadfast, loyal Michael. He would never leave. Castiel could count on that. 

 

That night, the wind howled just that little bit louder through Castiel’s small attic room. Occasionally it would bang against his open window, but Castiel couldn’t hear. He was in a spiralling nightmare. 

 

_ It was dark and the lonely street was scarcely lit by the orange glow of a flickering lamp. Castiel's cool breath danced around him and bounced upon his skin. _

 

The bed that was once Anna’s remained still and empty as if to creep into Castiel’s nightmare unexpectedly.

 

_ Castiel slowly turned around to meet his sister gaze.  _

 

Castiel’s bed creaked as he tossed and turned upon it. The sheets were becoming sticky with sweat. 

 

_ “Anna,” he called sternly, feeling twice his age within this strange dream. “Anna please,” _

 

_ “Finally decided to agree with me Castiel?” she replied, her usual snide look imprinted upon her face. _

 

_ “Yes.” Castiel murmured looking solemn, “I'm considering disobedience. Leaving.” _

 

_ “Good,” Anna remarked simply. _

 

_ “No, it isn't,” Castiel sternly answered. “For the first time I feel- doubt.” _

 

_ Anna nodded her head in a knowing kind of way before adding, “It gets worse- choosing your own course of action. It's confusing. Terrifying.” She trailed off and loosely grabbed her brother's forearm, looking into his eyes before she harshly turned away. “That's right. You don't need my help,” Castiel tried to interrupt and tell her otherwise but his mouth was sealed and Anna continued, “I'm nothing. I'm a walking blasphemy-” _

 

_ “Anna,” Castiel finally managed to croak, “I don't know what to do. Please tell me what to do,” _

 

_ Anna just smiled slightly and replied “Like the old days? No, I'm sorry. It's time for you to think for yourself-” _

  
  


Castiel awoke breathing heavily. The moonlight seeped through his open window and alit his face in a ghostly fashion. After a few minutes, his breathing subsided a little but he wouldn't dare go back to sleep, in fear of being caught in the nightmare again.  _ I'm not going to leave _ , he thought.  _ I can never leave. I promised Mother. _

 

Carefully, Castiel bundled up his sweaty sheets and threw them into a heap by the side of his bed, before pulling on a dressing gown and timidly walking downstairs into the kitchen. Using the pale slither of moonlight, Castiel carefully lit a candle to bring a warm haze to the room. Much to his surprise, he found a gloomy figure of his brother hunched over a chair, staring into bleak night. Castiel tentatively walked towards him whilst quietly calling, “Michael?”

 

“Cassie?” Michael replied, turning to face his little brother with a strained smile. His cheeks were stained with tears.

 

“What's wrong- have you been crying?” Castiel asked, putting his arm loosely around Michael's shoulders in growing concern.

 

“Me? Cryin'? Nah, never,” Michael joked, but it lost its effect as his voice cracked towards the end.

 

“Michael, what is it?” Castiel asked again, this time more sternly.

 

“It don't matter Cassie, I don't want ya gettin' upset too, do I?” Michael pushed Castiel's arm away lightly and turned his face to look back out to the bleak night sky. Castiel dejectedly started to walk back to his room before stopping just before the stairs.

 

“Michael, you know you can tell me anything, right? You're the only sibling I got left now.” Michael turned to look at Castiel sweetly. He smiled with a warm sense of love, before remembering something and wincing back into his cold shell. Gently, Michael patted an empty chair next to him for Castiel to sit at. A painful memory of Anna shot through Castiel's soul for a split second, at the gesture ( _ like the old days _ ) but he quickly covered it and sat next to his brother.

 

“I'm scared Cassie,” Michael remarked bluntly.

 

“Why?”

 

“I gotta letter this morning-” Michael started, tears already picking his eyelids.

 

“What do you mean?” Castiel naïvely replied.

 

“They're takin' me away to Europe, Cassie. I'm going to hell.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glossary: 
> 
> musta: must have  
> ya: you  
> yer: your / yeah  
> Ma: Mum  
> tuppence: an old English coin worth about 3 pence today (or 4 US cents)  
> cos: because  
> bonnie lass: good/ beautiful girl  
> s'not: is not  
> wanna: want to  
> gotta: got a  
> pots: potatoes  
> eh: a sound made in speech, used to express enquiry, surprise, or to elicit agreement  
> outta: out of  
> codswallop: a load of rubbish


	2. 1940 to 1942

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, for the long wait. I've been on holiday and hadn't got many chances to write. I'll try my hardest to get into a regular writing schedule. 
> 
> The lyrics:
> 
> ‘There'll be bluebirds over  
> The White Cliffs of Dover  
> Tomorrow, just you wait and see’
> 
> are from (There'll be bluebirds over) The White Cliffs of Dover - Vera Lynn. (Technically the song didn't come out until 1941, but writer's licence? Idk. It fitted well)
> 
> I'll probably update this chapter with a beta-d version sometime soon, as they're away at the mo.  
> I basically didn't want to wait too long in between chapters, so hear it is. 
> 
> Also sorry for the lack of Winchester action in the last Chapter, they arrive in this one. 
> 
> A glossary is in the end notes.
> 
> Thanks for reading and enjoy!

_ 10th May 1940 _

 

_ Dearest Cassie,  _

 

_ We have been waiting for this day for a long time. The Huns have finally decided to attack our defensive position; I can’t say I’m excited though. I’m scared Cassie. I’d do anything to go back to plowing. I’ve gotten so used to waiting that the actual action seems all too far away.  _

 

_ The Sergeant says we’ll be fine though, don’t you worry. Us Brits have built ourselves a strong front, along with our fellow Frenchmen. The Germans ain’t getting through and they’ll have tough time trying to get round. There ain’t no way they can get through the Ardennes. Trust me, we’ll smash ‘em and we’ll get to go home again. We’ll all be safe. I can go back to normality knowing that I did my bit to help. To protect you and Ma.  _

 

_ How is she by the way? I hope she’s well; I send her my love. I miss you all terribly. God, I even miss Crowley. France is beautiful, but it’ll never be home, especially knowing hell is only a border away.  _

 

_ There are quite a few men that signed up too in my squadron. I was surprised at first, but I soon found out that they all feel the same way. We’re doing this to protect all of you. One lad, Inias, is only eighteen. He says he was going to work with his Father as a blacksmith, but when the war broke out his Father decided to sign up again, even after fighting in World War I, so he followed his footsteps. I can’t even begin to imagine the Mother’s distress. He’s a bright young lad though, knows what he’s doing. He reminded me of Gabe in that way. It made me think Cassie, what if Gabe’s gone and signed up too? The thought alone makes me heart chill.  _

 

_ Whatever you do Cassie, tell me you won’t sign up. Stay at home, look after the crops and Ma. I’ll be back in no time. _

 

_ Michael _

 

_ Private Michael Novak _

_ 2 _ _ nd  _ _ Battalion, Bedfordshire and Hertfordshire Regiment _

_ 10 _ _ th _ _ Infantry Brigade _

_ 4 _ _ th _ _ Division, British Expeditionary Force _

_ British Army  _

  
  


_ 27th May 1940 _

 

_ Dearest Cassie,  _

 

_ They’ve found us and broken through. The Huns had their Panzers on us and they managed to push through the Ardennes. How I was naïve! Oh Cassie, tell Mother I love her so. We don’t have much time, the attack started midday and hasn’t ceased since. The Sergeant tells us that we’ve been isolated from the rest of the division. They can’t use the radios and the telegraph wires have been cut, so I write this letter in earnest love for you and Ma, as this may be the last time. I hope you will always be safe little brother. _

 

_ Michael _

 

_ Private Michael Novak _

_ 2 _ _ nd  _ _ Battalion, Bedfordshire and Hertfordshire Regiment _

_ 10 _ _ th _ _ Infantry Brigade _

_ 4 _ _ th _ _ Division, British Expeditionary Force _

_ British Army  _

  
  


_ We wait knee deep in icy water, _

_ Shivering as we say our prayers of mercy,  _

_ ‘Please, oh god, find us, for we are weak’ _

 

_ From the distance twinkling lights coy at us,  _

_ Their hope for escape that too far away,  _

_ ‘We will have to wait,’ they say,  _

_ But we have been waiting since the dawn of day,  _

 

_ Worn through the men begin to sing:  _

_ ‘There'll be bluebirds over _

_ The White Cliffs of Dover _

_ Tomorrow, just you wait and see’ _

 

_ Their hope stays strong,  _

_ Their love never dies,  _

_ Their faith ever grows,  _

_ On the Beaches of Dunkirk.  _

  
  


_ 15th June 1940 _

 

_ Dear Madam, _

 

_ It is my painful duty to inform you that a report has this been received from the War Office notifying the death of Private Michael Novak, of the Bedfordshire and Hertfordshire Regiment, which occurred at 14:00 on the 29th May 1940, and I am to express to you the sympathy and regret of the Army Council at your loss. The cause of death was ‘Killed In Action’.  _

 

_ If any articles of private property left by the deceased are found, they will delivered to this Office but some time will probably elapse before their receipt, and when received they cannot be disposed of until authority is received from this War Office.  _

 

_ Application regarding the disposal of any such personal effects, or any amount that may eventually be found to be due to the late soldier’s estate, should be addressed to ‘The Secretary, War Office, London, S.W’ and marked outside ‘Effects’.  _

 

_ I am,  _

_ Madam,  _

_ Your obedient servant,  _

_ Sergeant Laurens _

_ Officer in Charge of Records. _

  
  


_ 27th June 1940 _

_ England _

 

Castiel pulled himself from his small bed to the mellow light of the rising sun, before buttoning up his worn cotton shirt and heaving on his stark corduroy trousers. Quietly, he made an idle breakfast and wished his mother well, before starting his daily routine out on the fields. Although, silence seemed to swallow this routine now; for now he did it alone. The empty silhouette of his late brother hung around the air Castiel breathed, as if the grief would never quite leave. 

 

The radio said France is now fully occupied by the Nazis and that the threat has reached our homely shores.  _ Michael never reached those. _ The radio also said that Dunkirk was one of the greatest rescue missions the British Army has ever commenced. 300,000 soldiers were saved.  _ Why wasn’t my dearest brother one of them?  _

 

 _War comes and it goes, but it never quite leaves our family,_ Castiel thought, wiping away at his tears with a small section of his shirt that wasn’t already covered in grime. Monotonously, he worked through the rest of the day. Sweat gathered on his callouses of his laboured hands, sometimes mixing with the salty tears of grief. Each time, Castiel tried harder to pull himself together and just work. _Work._ _Work and forget,_ that it’s only _you_ and Ma now. So you’ve got to do it for her. Just keep fighting through it and the wound will eventually heal. _The wound never healed for Father. Stop living a lie._

 

By dusk, Castiel had tended to all of the needing crops, fed the chickens, trimmed the hedges and cried about five times. He and his Mother ate silently at the too large dinner table and wished each other goodnight, although they both knew they will get little sleep for the twelfth night running. 

 

Half way through one restless sleep, Castiel woke to his Mother’s tears once again, so he lit the fire and made her tea, before sitting beside her on a kitchen chair. Naomi pulled his face gently to the side of her shoulder, holding her son tightly and breathing deeply to disperse the lump in her throat. 

 

“It will get better Ma,” Castiel whispered, not quite believing himself. 

 

“I’ve, I’ve just lost everyone-” his Mother replied, through a cracked voice.

 

“I’m still here, I’ll never leave-” Castiel interrupted.

 

“But what if they force ya?-”

 

“They won’t Ma. Hell, they can’t legally for another two years!” Castiel responded, reassuring himself more than anyone else. 

 

His Mother just nodded slightly, then wiped down her tears on her nightdress and sipped her tea slowly, staring deeply into the flames of the fireplace in front of them. Castiel finished his tea quickly as his eyes started to droop, before going upstairs to fall into another fitful sleep. 

 

The next afternoon, Castiel decided to catch up with Crowley on the way back from the groceries. Around this time of day, no one filled up the small bar, so Castiel dumped his shopping onto an empty table and sat upon one of the stools, whilst ringing the little bell on the bar to gain Crowley’s attention. 

 

Gruffly, Crowley called from the room behind the bar, “sorry ‘appy hour s’not started yet!” followed by a heavy sigh. 

 

Castiel scoffed to himself with a slight grin upon his face, before replying “I’m not here for a drink, I actually came to say hello.”

 

Upon hearing this, Crowley pushed through the door and smiled slightly at Castiel.

 

“Castiel. You alright boy?” Crowley asked. 

 

“Yeah, I’m gettin’ slowly better thanks,” Castiel replied with a pained smile. 

 

After Castiel and his Mother got the news of Michael’s death, the village soon all seemed to know about it too. Countless people had come up to him in past weeks sending him and his Mother their love and condolences. The latest church service was held in Michael’s name and the reverend prayed for his happiness in heaven. It was like his funeral already. As if the village didn’t know how to cope with the tragic Novak family, so decided to shower them with love in some sort of recovery set for their ongoing grief. Either way, Castiel was being to become sick of the constant reminder of his brother’s death. However, Crowley was different to others, he’d heard the news, but didn’t press him about it. He simply said “sorry for your loss,” before continuing conversation as usual. He’d understood that grief took time and a constant reminder wasn’t always as soothing as a small sense of normality. 

 

“You been busy much?” Crowley asked, whilst picking up a pint glass to roughly clean with a teatowel. 

 

“Yeah I guess. It’s harder to do on my own,” Castiel replied looking towards his hands.

 

“I can imagine,” Crowley added, “yer Mother holding up well?” 

 

“No, to be honest. It’s a lot for her to take in, you know?” 

 

Crowley nodded while picking up another pint glass. 

 

“One minute she has all her family, the next they’re all gone,” Castiel added. “It’s getting harder for me to deal with too.” 

 

“Well, if you need something to do to take yer mind off of it, you’re welcome to come and help me out some nights. I’ll even pay ya a little somethin’.” Crowley suggested, ignoring Castiel’s surprised expression. 

 

“Crowley’s being nice?” Castiel lamely joked, but Crowley seemed to half-smile anyway. 

 

“Look boy, you’ve had it tough. I know I act like a demon ‘alf the time, but there’s a little humanity in there,” Crowley replied, pointing his index finger towards his heart. 

 

“Thanks for the offer,” Castiel added, before he got up to go back home. 

 

“Just come down at about six whenever you feel like it,” Crowley called, giving Castiel a short wave goodbye.

  
  


_ Spring of 1941  _

_ England  _

 

Castiel sat upon his log watching the ever growing RAF airbase prepare for another day at war. Fighter jets were being fueled up and bomber planes were being checked and registered by women in blue overalls, clutching clipboards. Men with garrison caps were waving tennis racket-like signs avidly along the small runways and officers patrolled the scenes with ever watching eyes. Castiel, ironically, seemed to be calmed by all of this action, his favourite pastime seeming to stick with him into his teenage years. At seventeen, his feet reached the ground now, so he awkwardly swung his legs and watched how the soles of his shoes grazed the grass below. 

 

Castiel sat for a while, before he heard footsteps pad lightly behind him. He turned to see a young woman who had deep red hair, which was plaited out of her face. She was wearing a light summer dress, made out of a pale beige fabric with a small flower decals printed over it. Gently, she gestured to the small space next to Castiel on the log, to which Castiel nodded back and said “good morning.” 

 

The red-haired woman returned the greeting whilst sitting down next to Castiel. 

 

A slight breeze whipped the air as she pulled her baby blue cardigan closer towards her chest, before asking Castiel, “are you okay?” 

 

“I’m fine,” Castiel murmured back, a little confused by the interest. 

 

The red-haired woman seemed to cotton on to this, as she jauntily declared, “I’m Charlene Bradbury but I would prefer if you called me Charlie.” 

 

“Castiel Novak- weren’t you in my school class?” 

 

“Yeah, that was me. I used to wave to you and your brothers when you went by my house when I was younger. I wanted to play with you but my Mother didn’t want me playing with boys,” Charlie replied. 

 

“Oh yes, I remember. Although I wasn’t that exciting as a child. I watched planes-” Castiel stopped himself before looking out to airbase below, “I still watch planes,” he added laughing to himself. 

 

“Well, I like reading comics instead of sewing, so...” Charlie replied, with a full smile upon her face. 

 

Castiel laughed again, before adding, “that’s interesting. I don’t normally know of ladies reading comics.”

 

“Yes, well, I’m not like all ladies,” Charlie replied, with a strange sense of self-loathing. 

 

“How so?” Castiel asked, trying to joke but it ended up sounding more like concern. Charlie looked at him for a moment; her previous smile washed away from her face. 

 

“If I tell you this, you’ll promise not to tell another soul,” Charlie asked, her face growing in deep concern. 

 

“Of course,” Castiel responded sternly, before adding, “but you hardly know me.” 

 

“It doesn’t matter. I trust you,” Charlie stated blatantly, to which Castiel grew a more confused look upon his face. 

 

“Why me? There are plenty girls you could confide in: Joanna or Eileen maybe?-” 

 

“Well yes, they  _ are  _ nice but I don’t think they’d stay friendly for long if I told them. It’s better if I told a boy and you seem very trusting Castiel,” Charlie interrupted. 

 

Castiel blushed a little while hastily replying, “it’s very kind of you to take a fancy to me but I-” 

 

Charlie laughed to herself making Castiel stop talking all of a sudden. He turned towards her, his face still pink with embarrassment, searching for some sort of answer upon her face.

 

Awkwardly she replied, “oh sorry if I was rude, it’s just that’s so far from what I was going to-” She stopped herself before breathing in deeply and stating, “I fancy women instead.”

 

Castiel stared at her for a second, growing even more pink if possible. He mumbled a quick “oh,” in response, before gesturing to the space between them and adding, “that explains the-” 

 

Charlie laughed awkwardly and said “yes.” 

 

A stiff silence seemed to fall upon them then, as Castiel thought over what he was going to say in response to Charlie. He didn’t want to come across as some homosexual hater, like most of the locals he knew. To them it was a terrible sin, but Castiel could never quite see why. He’d lost so many loved ones that he grew to learn that love comes in many shapes and forms and can’t ever defined by what the world around you said it was. Sure, it wasn’t conventual, but neither was the new rise of women working in male occupations. It just  _ was.  _

 

“Charlie,” Castiel eventually said, “I won’t tell anyone and just to let you know, I’m not judging you. I don’t think you’re a sinner. It’s just  _ new  _ to take in, you know? Homosexuality is seen a sin around these parts and it get ingrained in your expectations. No one seems to ever talk about it, so it’s a bit jarring-”

 

“Castiel. Thank you. Your acceptance is all I need right now, nothing more. I understand that it’s this may seem wrong to you at first. I did it to me.  _ It still does _ , so I just need someone there right now. Someone who  _ knows  _ and  _ accepts _ .” Charlie replied.

Castiel met her gaze again and felt an odd humble sensation swell in his heart. “If you ever need to talk about it, you can talk to me,” he stated. 

 

“Did we just become best friends?” Charlie joked, with a warm smile upon her face. 

 

“Yes, I think we did,” Castiel replied. 

  
  


_ Spring of 1942  _

_ England _

 

The news that the American Air Force were coming to Castiel’s humble little English village spread fast. Soon the whole village seemed to be in a constant state of anticipation. _ When will they arrive? How many will there be?  _ Some locals already started complaining that the  _ ‘airbase is big enough with just us Brits, we don’t need a load of Yanks as well,’  _ or that  _ ‘us Brits can fight this war well enough ourselves, the Yanks don’t need to take over,’  _ all which Castiel found frankly ridiculous. Yes, he was slightly skeptical on what the new residents were going to be like and how they were going to adapt to England, but he thought it best to just keep an open mind.

Crowley was some what delighted. He’d heard rumours that the GI’s had a little extra money to spend than the frugal locals, who were ever wary of rations. He’d even asked Castiel if he’d could work four nights a week, instead of his usual two down at the pub. Castiel didn’t mind though, he could use the extra money and getting to know some of GI’s may be interesting.

The RAF base was soon growing larger as it adjusted itself to its new status as an ‘United States Army Air Force’ base as well. More plane shelters and living compartments were being installed and the weathered runaways were being re-tarmaced. In turn, watching all this activity unfold from his little log made Castiel ever so slightly  _ excited  _ for the American influx. He’d heard on the radio that they were bringing new fighter and bomber jets with them and were going to join with the RAF in the growing amount of air battles over Europe, after the events of the Blitz in London. Although he wouldn’t like to admit it, Castiel was intrigued to see how the American planes differed from the British ones.  _ Maybe  _ he would even build up the courage to go down the base and have a look. It gave him something to look forward to in all the never ending gloom of the past three years. It took his mind off the continuous worry that he might be drafted himself.

 

It was a bright and sunny morning in May when Castiel first came across some GI’s. He was walking back from a morning watching the airbase to start his day on the fields, when he heard a low grumbling of vehicle engine come and stop behind him. Cautiously Castiel turned his heels around to see a small army-style jeep, with two young men sitting in the front. 

 

“You alright, Sunny?” one of the men called from behind the wheel. His voice was thick with an American twang.

 

“Dean-” said the other taller man under his breath, but he got cut off briskly.

 

“You wanna ride someplace?” the driver called again, beckoning Castiel towards them.

 

“Um, I’m fine, thank you,” Castiel murmured hurryingly, before starting to walk down the hill again.

 

“You sure? You seem to be going our way,” the driver continued, with a huge sly grin across his face.

 

“Dean, he said no,” the passenger persisted, giving the driver an annoyed look. “Stop pestering the guy.”

 

Upon hearing this Castiel laughed to himself slightly, before stopping to turn back to the jeep again. Intrigued he asked, “are you two GI’s?” whilst eyeing their smart, blue uniform and recognising their American accent.

 

“Sure are!” the driver smiled, “I tell ya somethin’ though, they sure don’t have nice motors over here-” he added.

 

“Dean,” the other man interrupted in an obvious effort to act formally. Carefully he stepped out of the jeep and walked towards Castiel, holding out a large hand for him to shake.

 

Castiel tentatively took his hand into the other man’s and gave it a small shake whilst he said “Castiel Novak.”

 

The tall man smiled back, gesturing to himself and the man still inside the jeep. “I’m Second Lieutenant Sam Winchester and this is my brother Lieutenant Dean Winchester. We’re both USAAF pilots down at the airbase. We arrived here only a few days ago, so we were gonna check out the village and see what’s what.”

 

Dean laughed to himself at conversation, before calling to his brother, “jees Sammy, you really did read that stupid pamphlet cover to cover.”

 

“I’m trying to be nice, unlike some people,” Sam retorted back, with a slight playful tone to his voice.

 

“I am nice!” Dean joked back in mocked horror. 

 

Castiel smiled to himself, before telling the two that he’d show them around quickly if they’d drop him off at his fields.

 

“Of course Cas!” Dean smiled, adding “hop in,” whilst gesturing to the back seat. Castiel was surprised at his new found nickname but followed anyway.

 

“What planes do you fly?” Castiel asked, eager to fuel his plane fascination.

 

“It depends,” Sam replied tilting his head back to face Castiel.

 

“We trained in what they B-T planes a lot, back home. They’re basically just a simpler version of the B-17 bombers that we'll use on most of our missions,” Dean explained, carrying on down the dirt path before reaching the village square.

 

“We’ll probably use fighters as well in more intense battles, but that's down to the officers above us,” Sam added.

 

Dean turned down a small backstreet road, leading them onto the high street. Castiel pointed out the local Church and Mrs. Harvell’s groceries, before leading them to ‘ _ The Black Hound’.  _

 

“This is the local pub. I work here most evenings so you can come down and say hello,” Castiel explained pointing towards the small cavern.

 

“Pub?” Dean asked, staring towards the building.

 

“A bar Dean. Ya know, beer,” Sam laughed back, with the same playfully annoyed look upon his face, that Castiel noticed seemed to happen a lot when Dean was talking. This made him laugh a little, as Dean's face lit up at the idea of beer.

 

“Hell yeah, beer!” Dean called, in a cheerful manner that made little dimples rise either side of his mouth.

 

“I told you, you shoulda read that pamphlet,” Sam replied knocking his arm lightly against Dean’s forearm.

 

“Oh, enough about that damn pamphlet. I’ll read it tonight,” Dean called back. Turning to face the wheel again he asked, “anywhere else we need to see Cas?”

 

Castiel smiled slightly at his nickname again before replying, “no I don’t think so. The village isn’t very exciting. Could you just continue to the end of this road until you see a small white cottage, please? I need to get some work in before dinner,”

 

“Of course,” Dean smiled back.

 

Sam and Dean weren’t at all like Castiel expected the GI’s were going to be like. He hadn’t had much of an idea to start with, to be honest, but he definitely imagined them to harsher than they actually were. Castiel was surprised at their generosity and cheerful manners. Dean was some what  _ loud _ but not overtly brash and Sam seemed to be trying hard to appeal nicely to British etiquette. Castiel didn’t care too much for it but he appreciated the effort.

 

That evening, the pub was quietly humming along as it always does before loud voices came crashing through the doors. A crowd of GI’s in crisp, blue uniforms waded in smiling broadly. A few locals gave them dirty looks as they slid up to the bar counter. Castiel finished serving a pint to a small, old man, whose beard grew unruly from his chin, before noticing Sam and Dean amongst the small crowd.

 

“Hey Cas,” Dean announced with his signature grin upon his face. Castiel blushed slightly and turned his gaze towards the tacky bar surface. Dean didn’t take any notice, however, and added, “fancy seeing you here?”

 

“Hello Dean, Sam,” Castiel replied nodding towards them.

 

“Two beers please,” Dean asked, slamming a couple of coins onto the bar surface. This caused some more dirty reactions from the locals and a confused expression from Castiel as he picked up the coins. Dean, again, didn’t seem to notice though.

 

After a few moments, Castiel went to reach for a couple of glasses before turning back around to ask, “pints?”

 

“Hmm?” Dean replied hazily, bringing his attention back to Castiel.

 

“Would you like pints or half pints?” Castiel asked again, holding up two different sized glasses. 

 

Soon realising that Dean probably didn't understand, he explained the sizes and their names, to which Dean happily replied, “I’ll have two  _ pints  _ then,” badly mimicking Castiel’s English accent on the word  _ ‘pint’.  _

 

Castiel grinned to himself as he poured out their drinks and handed them over to Dean. Dean handed one glass to Sam, who was engrossed in another conversation with the rest of the GI’s, before turning back to face Castiel. 

 

“I didn’t realise how different it is over here. In America we normally just drink it outta the bottle, you see, so I figured,” Dean explained after taking a sip.

 

“Don’t worry, I imagine it must be quite confusing for you. At least I’ll remember to inform someone next time,” Castiel replied, somewhat awkwardly. 

 

“Yeah I guess,” Dean said taking another sip of his beer. “Do ya normally drink beer warm over here as well?” Dean added.

 

“Um yes, I suppose so. Americans don’t?” Castiel responded with a slight confusion.

 

“Nope, as I said fresh outta the fridge to the bottle.”

 

“We don’t normally show our money when ordering as well. We normally pay after we’ve finished drinking or what not,” Castiel added.

 

“Oh, sorry ‘bout that,” Dean replied, with an awkward expression.

 

“No worries. You’ll get used to it,” Castiel smiled back.

 

“Thanks,” Dean said before being pulled back into conversation with the other GI’s.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glossary: 
> 
> Huns: nickname for the Germans (Nazis)  
> Brits: British  
> ain't: are not  
> Ardennes: forest region of North-West France, formed by the Ardennes Mountains  
> 'em: them  
> Ma: Mother  
> squadron: a sub-unit for a Battalion, usually formed of two or more troops  
> lad: young man  
> me (as in 'me heart'): my ('my heart')  
> Private: lowest status for a solider in the British Army  
> battalion: a large body of troops, formed of squadrons, that make up a brigade  
> regiment: a permanent unit of an army typically commanded by a Lieutenant Colonel and divided into several companies, squadrons, or batteries and often into two battalions.  
> brigade: a small number of infantry battalions and/or other units, forming part of a division  
> Panzers: German tanks  
> coy: to act with reserve  
> Dunkirk: a coastal town in North-West France, where a rescue mission of over 300,000 soldiers from allied forces took place  
> 'appy: happy  
> s'not: has not  
> scoffed: to express disbelief, mostly with good intentions  
> gettin': getting  
> yer: your  
> ya: you  
> sometin': something  
> 'alf: half  
> RAF: Royal Air Force (British Air Force)  
> garrison caps: like what this [dude](http://www.sofmilitary.co.uk/products/US-Parachute-Inf-Officers-Garrison-Cap-110714.JPG) is wearing  
> cotton on: to begin to understand  
> Yanks: nickname (sometimes derogatory term) for the Americans  
> GI's: a private soldier in the US army (most commonly used to talk about the US Air Army)  
> USAAF: United States Army Air Force  
> Blitz: the bombing of London and other major towns during WW2 by the Nazis  
> drafted: to be forced to join the army  
> wanna: want a  
> ride: a lift somewhere  
> Lieutenant: an officer rank in the USAAF, above 2nd Lieutenant and below Captain  
> 2nd Lieutenant: an officer rank in the USAAF, above Chief Warrant Officer and below 1st Lieutenant.  
> jees: an expression made when one is surprised or shocked  
> B-T: basic trainer planes  
> B-17: four-engine heaver bomber plane (as seen [here)](https://www.lonestarflight.org/public/styles/crop_wide/public/B-17%20GG2.JPG?itok=iwgEEWSV)  
> shoulda: should have  
> etiquette: social 'rules' on how to be polite  
> outta: out of  
> 'bout: about
> 
> [MY TUMBLR](https://angelsweardeerstalkers.tumblr.com/)


	3. May 1942

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: this chapter contains racist slurs and internalised homophobia. 
> 
> Heyyy! 
> 
> Long time no see. :ccc
> 
> I'm so sorry, but I've had a busy summer and this story got brushed aside.  
> I'm hoping to keep to a regular schedule, but I can't promise anything with heavy workloads.  
> I'll try my hardest <3
> 
> There's some slight Saileen in this chapter (my loved ship) but dw Sam's not going to cheat on Jessica, just some friendly dancing. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy! x

_May_

_1942_

_England_

 

Castiel walked briskly against the early morning breeze. He’d spent the morning debating to himself whether he should just go down the air base and ask if the public were allowed to view the aircraft. However, after much deliberation, he’d finally decided that it was a stupid idea. _Of course_ they wouldn’t allow him to view the planes. They were at _war_ , for god’s sake. Castiel was so lost in thought, that he didn’t notice a tall, blue-clothed figure come up beside him. He quickly jerked his body to face them, forcing them to stop in their tracks.

“Dean?” Castiel said.

 

“Hey Cas!” Dean replied with a large grin upon his face, although it fell quite suddenly when he remembered something. “I’m sorry- I’m a lil’ lost,” he added awkwardly. “Could you guide me to the store?”

 

“You mean the groceries?” Castiel asked, slightly confused.

 

“Uhh- yeah?” Dean replied, mirroring Castiel’s expression.

 

“Of course, just follow me,” Castiel replied with a slight smile, before starting to walk again.

 

“Ahh, thanks Cas. I shoulda remembered when you showed us last time, but knowin’ me, I forgot. We’ve ran outta milk down the base already. I’m telling ya, everyone seems to guzzling down the coffee like it _ain’t_ in short supply,” Dean responded with mock frustration.  Castiel laughed a little as Dean continued, “so obviously, _I_ was the one who had to go down to the store and get some more. It’s like they have no respect for their Captain- well _Lieutenant_ ,” Castiel laughed again, “but anyway, I walked up the hill to the village and well- I immediately got lost, until I found you that is,” Dean added.

 

Castiel’s smile grew larger before he turned to Dean again and said, “don’t worry, Dean. I’m happy to help. Like I said a few days ago, it must be quite confusing for you.”

 

“Uh yeah, it’s quite different to home actually,” Dean replied, with an almost wistful expression on his face. “Everything’s so... _small_ ‘round here,” he added, trying to pull a small smile upon his face.

 

“Well you are quite tall,” Castiel joked back, breaking Dean’s smile into a small laugh.

 

“Seriously? Have you seen Sammy? Boy’s only eighteen and he’s already got a good few inches on me,” Dean replied with mock surprise.

 

“Sam’s the same age as me?” Castiel replied bluntly, more surprised than anything to run with the joke.

 

“Yeah, I guess?” Dean replied, pausing for a moment before adding, “and ya haven’t been drafted or nothing?”

 

“Not yet,” Castiel replied solemnly, quickly changing the mood.

 

Dean immediately responded to the shift. “Hey, don’t think like that. You gotta keep hope, ya know. I almost lost it when Sammy said he’d wanted to sign up but he’s gotta think for himself, I guess. Ain’t worth losing hope over that.” Dean replied, forcing Castiel to look him in the eyes.

 

Castiel stared for a second, almost losing himself in the green pigment, before quickly pulling himself out of the haze to reply, “thank you.”

 

Dean smiled to himself, before forcing a brash grin upon his face whilst walking again, “I’m just sad he left that sweet lil’ bit of something next door behind.”

 

“He has a sweetheart?” Castiel added.

 

“Yeah, Jessica’s her name. They met in college. It’s real sweet like,” Dean responded proudly.

 

“I hope he gets to see her again,” Castiel said, looking over to Dean.

“I hope too, Cas,” Dean replied before falling silent.

 

They walked like that for a while as they both took in the sounds of a gentle spring morning. Birds called sweetly amongst each other and the breeze tickled between the bushes, making a soft rustling sound.

 

“Do you have someone back home too?” Castiel asked out of the blue.

 

An odd look seared across Dean’s face for a second as he didn’t respond. Castiel immediately filled with regret. _Why did he even ask him?_ Dean obviously didn’t want Castiel to know, and it wasn’t as if Cas was interested or anything. He couldn’t be, that was just absurd-

 

“No,” Dean replied suddenly, bringing Castiel out of his spiralling thoughts. “I went out with a girl called Lisa in high school for a while but we ended it pretty quickly when I left.”

 

“Where’d you go?” Castiel asked, as his previous nerves cooled.

 

“I gotta job with me old man fixing motors before the war broke out. He then thought it would a better idea if I joined the army and did my duty. So, I learned to fly a plane. Then of course, Sammy wanted to join too. He and Father had an odd relationship ever since he told him he was going to College instead of the family business. I think he did it to make him proud or somethin’, not that Mom or me liked it at all.”

 

“I understand,” Castiel replied, surprised at how much Dean revealed about his family life.

 

Cas got the sense that Dean was a rather open man, however demanding his Father seemed. Cas wasn’t quite there yet. He couldn’t quite tell an almost stranger his tragic past. It was still all too much.

 

By this point they reached the market square. Castiel pointed to the small shop front with a large green sign saying _‘Mrs. Harvell’s Groceries’._

 

“That’s the shop you’re looking for,” Castiel called, directing Dean towards it.

 

“Thanks,” Dean replied, while starting to walk over.

 

“Have you got some money?” Cas quickly added.

 

“Yeah, thanks Cas,” Dean replied again, this time with a smile.

 

“Oh and Dean?” Castiel asked once more.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Am I allowed to go see the planes down at the base?” Castiel asked bashfully.

 

“I don’t see why not,” Dean said back, with an even larger smile, “we ain’t got no missions for a few days, so they’d mainly be prepping them. Do you wanna come down this afternoon?”

 

Castiel smiled slightly before saying, “that’ll be great, thanks.”

 

“Just meet me ‘round the back of Hangar B and I’ll smuggle you in.”

 

Castiel laughed, “are you sure you won’t get told off?”

 

“Nah, don’t worry. I can introduce you to my pride and glory!”

 

“Which is?” Castiel replied, a little confused.

 

“Aah, just you wait and see Cas!” Dean called back, before walking into the small grocery shop.

 

Throughout the rest of the day, Castiel was whirring with excitement. His childish mind was reignited with the anticipation of actually going to see the planes he’d watched for so long. In fact, Cas hadn’t been this happy for years. Ever since Michael passed away, he’d closed himself off. He was the only one left; he didn’t deserve to be happy, especially when his Mother had been so distraught. But there was something about the brother’s cheerful nature that warmed Castiel’s heart, and he couldn’t shy away from that. They both came to a completely different country, filled with different people, different traditions, a different culture and yet they were so _positive._ Castiel admired this highly. He couldn’t quite imagine what it was like to be fighting away from home. He tried not to, to be honest. It just seem to bring up sore memories of Michael.

 

_He wasn’t quite there yet._

 

“Ma?” Castiel called, wiping his hands down on the kitchen towel.

“Castiel, how was work today?” Naomi asked, peering up from her knitting in front of the fire.

 

“Good- everything’s fine. Crop’s are all healthy.” Cas answered back, reaching for his jacket.

 

“That’s nice to hear,” Naomi mumbled back, before looking ‘round to her son, “where are you going?” she added, noticing Cas’ jacket.

 

“Oh- just to the pub-”

 

“It’s a little early for that, isn’t it?” Naomi pestered.

 

“Crowley needs some extra work force with the unloading,” Castiel lied, turning his face away from his Mother’s gaze.

 

“Oh-” Naomi replied, “that’s good of you.”

 

“Yes. Thank you Ma.” Castiel hastily replied before dodging out of the door.

 

He didn’t intend for that to be so _awkward,_ but at least she didn’t interrogate him on his whereabouts. He didn’t know how to explain that a random American GI had let him snoop around the Air Base. _Without Officer permission._ Castiel decided not to think too hard about that.

 

After a quarter hour of looking, Castiel finally found Hangar B huddled around the new block of the Air Base, that Castiel assumed had been put in place for the new American influx. It was a large half-cylindrical shaped building, which was covered in grey corrugated metal. There were huge set of sliding doors at the back, which Castiel could only assume were at the front as well. Surrounding the hangar, were a few other smaller brick buildings, which had a steady flow of blue-clothed soldiers waltzing in and out. Castiel watched them for a while, peering through the fencing to see whether he could stop Sam or Dean.

About ten minutes had past before Cas felt the metal fence shake slightly. Quickly, he jolted back and tried to hide himself in a small burst of panic.

 

“Oi, Cas!” a voice called, “over here.”

 

Castiel peered out to see Dean beckoning him over with a hand gesture.

 

“Oh- hello, Dean,” Castiel replied walking towards him.

 

“You found it then?” Dean asked, while leading Cas along the fence to a small in-built exit in the fencing.

 

“Yes- it was quite hard to find actually. I was beginning to think that went to the wrong place- or that you’d forgotten,” Castiel answered.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry, man. I was having a coffee break with the rest of squadron,” Dean said back, almost embarrassed.

 

“I thought coffee was on ration?” Castiel joked. Dean just laughed back in reply, before leading him into the base.

 

He walked Cas towards one of the smaller buildings near the hangar, explaining that this was his squadron's leisure area.

 

Inside there was a small kitchenette, consisting of a single gas hob, a toaster and sink, which was stocked with used coffee mugs. Further along, there were two sofas facing each other on either side of the room and a wooden coffee table sandwiched in between them. There were a few newspapers stacked on a nearby shelf and a radio on another. The room felt surprisingly _homely._ Castiel was so engrossed in his surrounding that he’d only just noticed that Dean had gone into another smaller room with a dartboard and pool table. The door was wide open and Cas noticed Dean starting to talk with few other GI’s. They all seemed to be huddled around the pool table, even though they obviously weren’t playing at all. They were just talking and laughing and sometimes taking a sip of brown fizzy-looking liquid in a glass bottle. Castiel thought that it was a somewhat _strange_ sight to see. But he’d guessed that for them, _every where else was strange._

 

Dean caught Castiel standing awkwardly in the doorway of the games room and cheerfully gestured for him to come in. Castiel hesitantly walked towards Dean and smiled slightly at the other GI’s frankly confused faces.

 

“Guys, this is my new English friend Castiel,” Dean announced, somewhat over enthusiastically.

 

A smaller man with a dodgy-looking goatee beard, laughed before replying, “trust Winchester to break all the rules within the first week!”

 

The other men laughed as Dean interrupted, “Oh come on Ash, that’s not fair,” while punching the goatee man lightly on the arm.

 

Castiel just stood there awkwardly, as another brunette man added, “he’s gotta point though, Dean. You can’t just let anyone in here and expect Singer to be best pleased.”

 

Dean just huffed and playfully put an arm around Cas’ shoulders.

Castiel tried his best to fight a blush rising to his cheeks as Dean said, “I’m sorry about this Cas-tiel, my crew aren’t _best pleased_ with your company.”

 

Castiel smiled weakly, as Ash spoke again, “how did you even make a local bud already, anyway Winchester?”

 

“Me and Sammy gave Castiel a ride in exchange for a quick look around the village, a few days back. Someone’s gotta know what’s what around here,” Dean replied, lowering his arms from Cas’ shoulders to his sides.

 

“Ever the gentleman, Winchester,” Ash remarked back, before sipping on his drink.

 

Dean grunted slightly, as Ash turned to look at Cas.

 

Ash extended a hand, which Cas took tentatively, before saying, "well Castiel, I'm Corporal Ash Miles, first radio operative of Lieutenant Winchester's B-17 flight crew."

 

Dean smiled at this as Cas replied, "Castiel Novak, local resident of Baron village." Dean chuckled to himself.

 

The others GI's observed this exchange, before all turning to Cas with outstretched hands and large smiles. Castiel felt a large swell of _acceptance_ at the greetings and Dean was beaming like anything.

 

All together, Castiel had found out that there were nine men to Dean's flight crew: Dean and Sam (pilot and co-pilot), Second Lieutenant Victor Hendrickson (bombardier), Corporal Ash Miles (first radio-op), Private Garth Fitzgerald (second radio-op), Private Kevin Tran (navigator), Private Andy Gallagher (photographer), Corporal Cole Trenton (first engineer) and Corporal Gordon Walker (second engineer).

 

Everyone but Hendrickson, Walker and Tran were around the pool table, so Castiel, instinctively, asked where they were.

 

Cole, a short and stocky, dirty blonde, snorted slightly before calling, “yellow ‘n blacks don't hang with us, lad!” in an almost happy manner.

 

Castiel quickly fell Cole's gaze and watched as the others laughed at his remark. However, Castiel couldn't quite see the humour and moreover felt quite awkward. He stole a quick glance towards Dean and was relieved to find he had a similar reaction, even if it faded quickly when the others looked over to him.

 

After the joke (and awkwardness) seemed to dispel from the room, Dean curtly left the rest of crew to their aimless chatter and lead Cas around to the front of the hangar. A small, dark haired, young lad (whom Dean later introduced as Private Kevin Tran) greeted Dean, before they pulled open the large steel doors. Inside revealed a huge,

four engined plane with a large wingspan and a glossy grey coat of lacquer.

 

Dean grinned widely, before saying “isn’t she a beaut? She's my pride and joy is Baby.”

 

Cas looked on in awe, while Dean jumped up and tapped the end of her nose. Painted on the right side of it was a large decal of a woman, dressed in a small black dress and heels. She was laying back on her hands, which accentuated her black, glossy hair tumbling onto her back. Underneath the shape of her legs was written _‘BABY’_ in calligraphy-style font. Cas admired the beauty of her, wondering whether Dean painted it himself.

 

_Maybe she was inspired by the beauty of his high school sweetheart Lisa._

 

_Wait? Where did that come from?_

 

Castiel quickly brushed away that thought as Dean came towards him.

 

“Ya know, we’re holding a dance in the main mess hall tomorrow evening. It’s open to locals and all, as a way of welcoming us into the community, as it were,” Dean paused and Cas was almost certain that he could see a small blush rise on his cheeks before he said, “perhaps you could come along? Bring a lady?”

 

“Oh I don't really dance, Dean,” Castiel replied, flustered yet flattered.

 

“‘Course ya do!” Dean answered back, regaining his usual confidence.

 

“I’ll think about it,” Cas murmured back, before deciding to turn back and go home. He pretended not to see Dean's almost _disappointed_ expression.

 

Castiel didn’t see Dean or Sam that next morning. He’d felt an odd sensation at that, like he’d almost hoped he’d see at least one of them at the shops.

 

_They do have a war to fight Castiel!_

 

Castiel pushed open the small wooden door leading into _‘Mrs. Harvell’s Groceries’,_ greeting Joanna, her daughter, politely as the bell rang. Jo greeted Castiel back, while stocking the last of a pile of canned soup onto on of the shelves behind the counter.

 

“What can I get Castiel?” she smiled brightly, turning to face him.

 

“A pint of milk, two eggs and my week’s worth of butter, please.” Castiel replied, placing his small ration book onto the counter.

 

“Will do,” Jo replied happily.

 

“Where’s your Ma, this morning?” Castiel asked, as Jo packaged Castiel’s shop.

 

“‘Round the back, I think.” Jo replied, her blonde hair swishing as she peered through the window leading to their home.

 

“Is she well?” Castiel asked.

 

“Yes actually. Every now and then she has one of her bad days, ya know, but she’s doing fine this morning.”

 

Jo’s father died from a heart condition a just after Jo was born. Her Mother, Ellen, was left distraught, going on to believe that the stress of WWI was some causing factor to his death. Castiel didn’t actually know the legitimacy behind this statement, but could understand the grief. _He had his fair share of it._ He’d always wondered if maybe both of their fathers fought together, but had never asked. To be quite frank, Mrs. Harvell had always scared Castiel as a child. He understood her hardy nature now, but still never daren’t ask of her husband. She was a woman dedicated to her shop and daughter, desperately trying to remove the grief of her late husband. Castiel, of all people, knew best not to disturb such.

 

Jo paused before asking, “how’s Mrs. Novak?”

 

“Quiet really.” Castiel replied, not sure what else to say.

 

“You’re doing a great job, you know Castiel. You two need to stay strong,” Jo said, looking directly at Castiel before making up the bill.

 

“Thank you,” Castiel curtly replied, handing over Jo the money.

 

Her smile faded slightly as she handed Castiel his groceries and stamped his ration book.

Castiel turned to leave, before Jo called, “wait, Castiel.”

 

He turned to face her, responding “yes?”

 

“Have you seen any of the Americans around here?” she asked, her face turning slightly pink.

 

Castiel paused for a moment and swallowed before replying, “yes, why’d you ask?”

 

Jo’s smile grew quickly, as she said, “one of them came in yesterday morning. ‘Twas real dreamy like. Tall and beautiful green eyes-” Castiel smiled back as Jo continued, “though ain’t they talk strange?”

 

Castiel nodded back in agreement, though his mind seemed to be distracted.

 

 _Tall and beautiful green eyes._  

 

He felt thick sensation rising in his throat.

 

_Tall and beautiful green eyes._

 

“Castiel?” Jo asked suddenly, bringing him out of his haze.

 

He dampened the thick feeling quickly, as he regained some sort of composure.

 

_What was that? Stop having all those stupid feelings!_

 

“Oh yes, sorry. I have seen him actually,” Castiel replied as Jo’s face lit up again. Castiel continued, “he seemed a little bit lost, so I helped him yesterday.”

 

“Oh that’s kind of you,” Jo smiled back.

 

“Yes-” Castiel replied before realising something, “he actually said something about a dance this evening, down at the base. Maybe you’d like to come along? Ya know, invite him to dance?”

 

Jo blushed slightly as she dodged her head low. “That’s sounds great, I’d love to go, but I don’t think I could dance with a handsome yank,” she added.

 

_Handsome- stop it!_

 

“Oh come on, Jo!” Castiel smiled back, “I tell you what _I’ll_ dance if you ask him,” Castiel added.

 

He was sure Dean would like Cas’ interest in finding him a lady to dance with and Jo was very beautiful, _and_ Dean had asked him to bring a lady.

 

“Really?” Jo remarked back.

 

“Am I really that bad at dancing?” Castiel asked back to Jo’s surprised expression.

 

“Maybe,” Jo answered back playfully, “I won’t ever forget you at the village fête, all those years back,” she added.

 

The memories of dodgy eight-year old Castiel dancing, came flooding back quickly as he replied, “okay, you have a point there.”

 

Jo laughed in response, before asking, “could you pick me up this evening, then?”

 

_Oh right, yes, dance, Jo was going._

 

Castiel forced a smile and replied, “of course.”

 

“Thank you Castiel,” Jo beamed back as she waved him goodbye.

 

Castiel returned the gesture, before mentally kicking himself for being so _bitter_ about the whole thing. He was doing a nice thing for a friend, since when did he get so spiteful over it?

 

The evening air held a slight chill to it, as Castiel walked down the cobbled streets to fetch Joanna. His stiff dress shoes clicked annoyingly on the stones and rubbed his feet from hardly being worn. The last time he wore them was Michael's funeral and he didn’t want to think about that.

 

Castiel hadn’t actually ever been to a party before, let alone an American dance, so he’d attempted to dress himself in his smartest clothing: a crisp white shirt, pressed pin striped trousers and the infamous dress shoes. His Mother said he looked very smart, although Castiel could see through the pain of the familiarity to the last use of smart wear.

_He didn’t want to think about it._

 

The chilled air brushed pass Castiel again as he clutched his arms to his chest. Maybe he should’ve brought a jacket, he thought stupidly before spotting Jo walking towards him.

 

She was wearing a simple, deep green dress, which had a slight v-neck and flair from the waist. Her hair was rolled and she had bright red lipstick on. She was beautiful.

 

“You look lovely,” Castiel said, as he greeted her.

 

“Thank you,” she replied shyly, before rolling on a light beige cardigan. “It’s turning quite cold,” she added, as they started to walk together.

 

“Yes, quite so,” Castiel replied.

 

They made idle chatter for the rest of the walk, before Castiel linked arms with Jo and led her through the the main mess hall of the base. Inside were several round tables either side of the room, with a few locals and GI’s already seated.

 

In the far corner, a small swing band started to play an upbeat tune, heavy with bass and horns. Even though Cas had never heard anything like it before, he decided immediately that he liked it. All he’d ever heard were fiddle bands at a celebrations before. This was different and actually made him want to dance a little. _Not that he was, of course._ In the other corner, was a long table filled with several buffet items and stacks of beer.

 

“Would you like a drink?” Castiel asked Jo.

 

“Yes, please,” Jo replied happily, looking around at the hall. “I’ll be at one of tables,” she added, going to walk over to one with a few local girls already seated.

 

Castiel nodded and walked over to the buffet. He grabbed two beers, before being tapped on the shoulder.

 

“Cas?” Dean asked, beer in one hand and several buffet items in the other.

 

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel replied, turning to face Dean who was dressed in blue uniform.

 

Dean smiled widely, as he said, “you decided to come along then?”

 

“Yes. Actually, I brought someone with me.” Cas replied.

 

“Lead the way!” Dean smiled, before stuffing a few buffet items into his mouth.

 

Castiel soon found the table in which Jo and Eileen were seated. He gave Eileen a short wave and handed over Jo’s beer.

 

“Evening, ladies,” Dean smirked, extending a hand to the both of them. Eileen took it gratefully and Jo awkwardly. They introduced each other and Dean did the same.

 

A few GI’s and ladies had already started to aimlessly dance, so Dean inquired, “anyone for a warm-up dance?”

 

Jo blushed thoroughly, as she accepted the offer and received a kiss to the hand. Castiel watched on awkwardly, before deciding to sit with Eileen. They chatted for a while, but Castiel found himself checking on Dean and Jo every now and again. Jo had a beaming smile as Dean spun her around to the jaunty music. Dean moved almost eloquently to the music, leading Jo through the basic moves, holding her tight to his chest before she spun again. Castiel nearly found himself wishing that he was dancing with Dean instead, but it got crushed quickly. That was _absurd_ and _wrong._ Two men couldn’t _dance_ together.

 

When he turned back to Eileen he noticed that Charlie had joined them.

“Hello, Charlie!” he said, with an immediate smile.

 

“Hello, Castiel,” she replied.

 

“I didn’t think you’d come,” Castiel asked.

 

“I couldn’t miss watching Novak try to dance! I saw Jo this afternoon and said you were coming, so here I am!” she smiled.

 

“I’m glad you came,” Castiel said, “although you won’t see me dancing any time soon.”

 

“We’ll see about that!” Charlie called, pulling Castiel to his feet and before he knew it, he was on the dance floor with her. From the corner of his eye, he could see Eileen giggling slightly as she clapped them both on.

 

Castiel stumbled slightly calling, “Charlie!” but Charlie wasn’t haven’t any of it, holding Castiel and leading him into the beat.

By some sort of miracle, he eventually found himself easing into the steps and even spinning Charlie sometimes. Until he spotted Dean looking at him, that is. He immediately slowed and stumbled over Charlie’s red heels, forcing them to both stop in an undignified manner.

 

“Woah, what’s wrong?” Charlie laughed, steadying herself. She stole a quick glance towards Cas staring at Dean and smiled to herself. “Oh,” she said somewhat knowingly.

 

“What?” Cas answered back quickly, breaking his gaze towards Dean.

 

“Nothing,” Charlie said nonchalantly, “let’s go sit down for a while.”

 

“Okay?” Cas replied back, warningly.

 

Castiel noticed that Sam had come to sit on the table too and was chatting to Eileen. Cas said hello and asked how Sam was doing, all while trying to ignore Dean’s eyes on his back. Sam answered back, “very well, thank you,” before asking Eileen whether she wanted to dance. Castiel smiled at this interaction as Eileen beamed and followed Sam to the floor. Cas turned back to Charlie although she was now engrossed in a conversation with a very giggly Jo. Dean caught his eye.

 

“I thought you said you didn’t dance?” he said, breaking the tension.

 

Castiel ducked his head to hide his immediate blushing, before replying, “I thought myself wrong.”

 

“You’re good,” Dean smiled, before thinking of something and standing up, “come with me,” he added.

 

Castiel nodded, as his heart began to beat oddly fast. Dean lead them outside where he lit a cigarette and took a long draw from it. He handed it towards Cas.

 

“Oh, I don’t smoke,” Castiel quickly replied.

 

Dean huffed to himself with a smile before taking the cigarette to his own lips again. Castiel unconsciously followed the movement, staring at the way Dean’s lips parted. Although, Dean soon caught his stare and Castiel quickly dropped it, feeling heat flush around his neck.

 

“It’s a nice night out,” Castiel observed, trying to moving on the moment.

 

Dean smiled around his cigarette, before breathing it out and replying “yeah, the stars are real pretty like.”

 

They both looked up to the deep sky, drinking in the silence as the stars twinkled slightly. Dean crushed his cigarette, before turning to face Cas.

 

“Ya know, ya can still hear the low hum of the music from here,” he remarked, with an odd look on his face.

 

“Yeah,” Cas breathed as he felt Dean grab him into a dancer’s pose.

 

Castiel tensed immediately, but Dean reassured him, “no one can see us out here, Cas. We can just dance a little.”

 

“Okay,” Cas replied as they started to sway to the beat. They stayed like this for a little while before turning to some more upbeat moves. Soon, he was being swung ‘round by Dean. His skin felt flushed and his heart was beating faster than usual. He felt more _alive_ than he had in a long while.

 

“Castiel?” a distant voice called, causing them to both stop abruptly and pull their bodies apart.

 

Castiel swiftly forced a large distance between them as he brushed down his clothes and tried to cool his nerves. He could see Dean awkwardly shuffling, trying to fight a bright red tinge to his cheeks. He turned away almost immediately, gaining some sort of natural composure as Charlie walked towards them. She quickly saw Dean hanging in the shadows and looked between them both, before pulling a weird _smirk_ on her face.

 

“There you are!” she smiled.

 

“Just went for some fresh air,” Castiel murmured, trying not to over analyse Charlie’s expression.

 

“You were gone for quite some time,” Charlie answered, in an almost teasing manner, before adding, “Jo’s was beginning to wonder where you were. I said I’d go find you,” Charlie paused again as she looked behind Cas and said, “hello, Lieutenant.”

 

Dean stepped forward and nodded while saying, “Charlie,” before turning to Cas and mumbling, “I- uhh- I’m going to go check on Sammy, thanks for the- um- chat.”

 

“You too, Lieutenant,” Castiel replied sternly, avoiding Charlie’s look.

 

After Dean had gone inside, Castiel quickly garbled, “he went to have a smoke and I saw him so I said hello and- were we very long?”

 

Charlie laughed, causing Cas to become very confused.

 

“Castiel, don’t worry. I understand,” she remarked before leading them both back inside.

 

Castiel and Jo promptly said goodnight to Charlie, Eileen and the brothers after that. Castiel was glad of Jo’s will to go home before her Mother started to worry, as it gave him a good excuse to turn away from Dean without any suspicion. His thoughts were still swimming with his touch as he held him and swung him around to the distant music. He needed to block it, to get away. He couldn’t think like this. It felt _wrong_ and yet it still made his heart skip. He refused to wonder why.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glossary:
> 
> lil': little  
> shoulda: should have  
> knowin': knowing  
> outta: out of  
> ya: you  
> ain't: isn't  
> 'round: around  
> gotta: got to  
> where'd: where did  
> me: my  
> somethin': something  
> they'd: they would  
> that'll: that will  
> hangar: aircraft storage building, like [this](https://ichef-1.bbci.co.uk/news/660/media/images/74900000/jpg/_74900910_74900909.jpg) one  
> sqaudron: about ten men (army division)  
> bud: buddy  
> Corporal: enlisted officer rank in US army (below Sergeant and above Private)  
> B-17: large, four-engine, bomber plane, [like this one](https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/a/a6/Color_Photographed_B-17E_in_Flight.jpg/300px-Color_Photographed_B-17E_in_Flight.jpg)  
> bombardier: role in flight crew: manages and deploys the bombs  
> radio-operative: role in flight crew: keeps in touch with other planes and ground  
> Private: lowest rank of enlisted man in US army  
> BABY: my idea behind the baby drawing was inspired by some actual WW2 planes, e.g. [this one here](https://acesflyinghigh.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/img_4049-1024x683.jpg)  
> mess hall: main eating room in airbase  
> [ration book](http://www.sweetandnostalgic.co.uk/ekmps/shops/sweet/images/world-war-two-ration-book-replica-1078-p.jpg): used to tally how much food you were allowed in a week, when food was on ration in England in WW2  
> 'round: around  
> why'd: why did  
> 'twas: was  
> yank: an American  
> jaunty: lively, cheerful manner
> 
> [MY TUMBLR](https://angelsweardeerstalkers.tumblr.com/)


	4. June 1942

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally...a chapter update...
> 
> trust me, i'm not giving up on this story, i'm just finding it quite hard to write atm. 
> 
> hopefully, you like it though. it's a very fluffy chapter (with some light angst ofc)
> 
> glossary is in the end notes as usual :)
> 
> there's also a lot of internalised homophobia, just as warning 
> 
> hope you enjoy x

_ May  _

_ 1942  _

_ England  _

 

The sky was barely light, exaggerating the shadows overlooking the airbase. Castiel sat and breathed in the crisp air, savouring the early hours of a cold breeze before the hot, spring sun rose. Large floodlights illuminated the air base hangars and Castiel could make out blue and green clothed figures performing their morning checkups. Castiel wondered whether Dean was down there, adminstrisitating Baby’s fine wings before starting his working day. Maybe he was looking back up the hill? Wondering how Cas’ day might go? 

 

_ No, of course not. That would be absurd.  _

 

_ Dean doesn’t even know that you sit here... _

 

_ It was just a little bit of harmless dancing.  _

 

_ Definitely, nothing more, _ Castiel thought rising from his log and brushing down his trousers. He turned to walk back down to his fields when he was greeted by overtly smiley Charlie. 

 

“Charlie? Uh- good morning,” Castiel awkwardly greeted her. 

 

“Morning,” she smiled sweetly back, “can I talk to you, for a bit?” she added, gesturing to the log. 

 

“Of course?” Castiel replied skeptically

 

They both sat back down onto the log, as Charlie adjusted her jacket in the chill. Her red hair blew gently around her face in the breeze as she sighed softly. 

 

“Did you enjoy last night?” she asked. 

 

“Oh yes, it was very- enjoyable,” Castiel replied, slightly embarrassed. 

 

“Dean seemed very nice,” Charlie smiled. 

 

Castiel glared a little before saying, “yes, both of the brothers are very nice.” 

 

“They’re rather easy on the eye as well,” Charlie remarked, knocking Cas’ arm slightly.

 

Castiel glared back again, desperately trying to calm his heating face.

 

“Hey, Castiel?” Charlie asked again, this time with a softer tone. 

 

Castiel nodded towards his lap.

 

“What I saw last night,” Castiel looked towards her with a look of terror, “I won’t tell anyone.”

 

Castiel relaxed slightly as Charlie continued, “these feelings- I get it. They’re scary and confusing and you just wish they’d go away, but it’s okay-” 

 

“Charlie? What do you mean?” Castiel interrupted. 

 

“You and Dean,” Charlie answered, “it’s okay-”

 

“Nothing’s going on between me and Dean. I hardly know him-” 

 

“That’s not what I’m trying to say-”

 

“Nothing is going on, no  _ feelings-” _

 

“Castiel, I’m trying to help you-”

 

“Help me? No, Charlie, I don’t have these  _ absurd _ feelings,” Castiel snapped. 

 

Charlie just stared back at him for a while, her face changing into a hurtful expression, before gently walking away from Cas. 

 

“Goodbye, Castiel,” Charlie murmured back to Cas, before leaving him to stare at the sun rise.

 

_ June  _

_ 1942  _

_ England _

 

It had been a month since the dance and Castiel hadn’t seen either of the brothers since. His mind wanted to tell him that they were just doing their job, but he couldn’t help but be disappointed by it all. 

 

He hadn’t spoken to Charlie since either. They’d awkwardly glance at each other if they met in the village, not daring to try and sort out the awkward rift Castiel had formed between them. In all frankness, he didn’t  _ want  _ to sort out things with Charlie. It was easier to just block any  _ feelings,  _ as Charlie said, about Dean, or the dance. He didn’t need to clog his mind with things that he still couldn’t quite accept for himself. Over time, yes, he’d come to realise that Charlie shared this experience and probably would be a huge help to him, but however much he accepted her, he wasn’t quite ready to accept himself. It was alright if it were someone else’s problem, as Castiel could just listen, but when it came to himself it just didn’t seem  _ right.  _

 

Even if some days Cas wished that it would  _ just feel right _ .

 

Sometimes, when the wind howled just that bit louder outside, Castiel would lie wide awake and think of Dean’s bright smile or the way his hands clasped Cas’ back, as he swayed him to the jaunty music. These thoughts, would always make Cas feel warm inside, however much he tried to ignore it.

 

It was a bright-skied Sunday morning, and Castiel was walking back from Church with his Mother. She was gradually becoming better, opening herself a little more each day to social activity apart from her only son. 

 

Castiel was trying to help as much as possible, often introducing her to folk she hadn’t seen for months. Reassuring her that they would understand her suffering, even if Castiel knew that wasn’t always the case. Some locals had enough of the shattered Novak family, and tended to mock his mother when they thought Castiel wasn’t listening. Although, I had gotten to the point where Castiel didn’t care too much for anger towards them, it wouldn’t stop it-  _ or bring his family back. _

 

_ Maybe it was just time to move on- find a new family.  _

 

Naomi was asking Castiel about his later plans for this afternoon, when a tall GI came towards them. 

 

He smiled at them both as he said, “Morning Cas!” 

 

Castiel smiled slightly, as he greeted, “Morning, to you too Sam.”

 

Naomi looked on the conversation with slight trepidation, as Castiel introduced Sam to his mother.

 

“Morning, Mrs. Novak,” Sam smiled, as Naomi grimaced slightly.

 

“So, you’re from America, are you?” she asked quite uncomfortably.

 

Castiel glanced over to her and then Sam in slight concern, before Sam politely smiled and replied, “Yes ma’am, I’m Second Lieutenant Sam Winchester, currently stationed at Baron airbase.” 

 

Naomi nodded, before asking, “and you know my son, how?” 

 

Castiel gave his Mother another look of warning, as Sam replied again. “Castiel, helped me and my brother find our way ‘round the village last month, when we first settlin’ in.” 

 

“Oh, that’s very kind of you, Castiel,” Naomi replied as Sam smiled towards Cas. 

 

“Ahh- yes. It was the least I could do for you, Sam,” Castiel said curtly. 

 

“Perhaps you could help me out this afternoon?” Sam asked. 

 

Castiel looked towards his mother. 

 

“I’m sure there’s no problem in that. Don’t work yourself too hard though, ‘tis Sabbath,” Naomi responded. 

 

“Of course, Mother,” Castiel replied as Naomi started to make her way back home.

 

Once she was out of sight, Sam added, “your Mother seems very nice, Cas.” 

 

Castiel smiled awkwardly towards Sam, as to say  _ sorry about that,  _ but Sam didn’t seem to mind. 

 

“Don’t worry, Cas. I’ve come to discover that plenty of locals don’t seem to like us much,” Sam responded with a slight laugh.

 

Castiel just smiled again. There was an odd silence, before Sam asked, “so, how have you been doing?” 

 

“Fine thanks, just heresay,” Castiel replied, “what about you?”

 

“We’ve got our first mission over to France in a month, so we’re just training for that really,” Sam said. 

 

“How’s Dean?” Castiel found himself asking, without much thought.

 

Sam smiled as he replied, “good, I’d say. But Dean’s like that, always so cheerful.”

 

“Yes, he does make me smile,” Cas replied, again without much thought. He immediately blushed a little, but Sam didn’t notice or at least  _ chose  _ not to notice.

 

“So, you’re free this afternoon?” Sam asked.

 

“Yes, I guess so. What would you like me to help you with?” Castiel questioned.

 

“Oh, I don’t really need some help. It’s just- me and Dean found a pretty little field by the shore, about a few miles walk from ‘ere last week. We were going to play some baseball in our time off, so I just wondered if you’d like to join us?” Sam replied, slightly nervously. 

 

Castiel expression turned to a huge smile, “that’s sounds like a lovely idea. Although, I must say, what kind of game is baseball?” 

  
  


They ascended a small hill, before coming to a clearing in the landscape. In front of them was a vast, green field spotted with white wild flowers and small sand dunes, as the grass met the beach. The wind tasted salty to Cas’ mouth, as he drank in the sea beauty. He was surprised that he’d never found somewhere like this before. But saying that, Castiel didn’t often leave the safe security of Baron village. The brothers had yet ignited a new sense of adventure within him.

 

“It’s real pretty like,” Dean told Cas, walking up beside him. 

 

“Yes, it’s rather beautiful.”

 

“Ya know, back in America, me and Sammy had only seen the sea once. Now, it’s right on my new doorstep,” Dean replied staring out towards the vast water.

 

Castiel smiled towards him, before saying, “I don’t go to the sea often, if I’m honest.”

 

“Why not?” Dean inquired, “you’re so close to it.”

 

“I never seen much reason to.”

 

Dean stared at Castiel for a while, before stating, “enjoy it while you can, Cas. Adventure is beautiful thing.”

 

Castiel turned to face Dean, feeling that warm sensation rise through his body once more, as they stared at each other intently. Although, it was soon startled by Sam walking up behind them both, clutching a bat and small ball.

 

“Wanna get this started?” Sam smiled, tossing the ball high into the air, before catching back into his palm.

 

“Of course Sammy!” Dean grinned, before stealing the bat, “I’m battin’ though.”

 

Sam huffed in annoyment, as Dean ran over to the far side of field excitedly.

 

“Come on, Sammy!” he shouted, cupping his free hand around his mouth.

 

Sam just huffed again, before running closer to Dean and throwing the ball at his bat. Cas watched on in amazement, as Dean hit the ball straight on sending it flying through the air. 

He was running avidly around Sam in an almost diamond-like shape, still clasping the bat. Before Cas could realise, the ball was coming towards him fast and Sam was shouting, “catch it!”

 

Castiel jumped to the right a little, grabbing the ball firmly into his palms. He looked back over to Sam who was cheering fervently, and then over to Dean who was grinning wildly.

“Back over ‘ere Cas!” Dean called, gesturing towards them. 

 

Castiel threw the ball back over to Sam, before running to meet them both. 

 

“Nice one there, Cas,” Sam smiled holding his palm out straight in front of Castiel. 

 

Cas looked at it oddly, before holding out his palm too. Sam suppressed a laugh, as he moved Castiel’s palm to touch his, causing Dean to crack and burst out in laughter. Castiel turned his head slightly in confusion, causing Sam to start laughing too. 

 

“What’s so funny?” Castiel asked.

 

“Nothing,” Sam said, through giggles. 

 

Cas squinted his eyes in annoyance as Dean, asked, “you never heard of a high five, man?”

 

“No,” Cas replied blatantly, before adding, “there are many American ways, that I’m not accustomed to.”

 

Dean laughed again, before stating, “well you can cross baseball off that list.”

 

“Yeah! ‘Bit more practice and we can play a few games,” Sam added. 

 

“That sounds nice,” Castiel grinned, before picking up the bat and asking the brothers, “teach me?” 

 

Sam ran off into a small woodland to fetch a few twigs to make bases, as Dean started to teach Castiel how to use a bat.

 

“Okay, so just put your weak hand towards the bottom of bat and your stronger hand on top,” Dean stated, as Cas followed his instructions. 

 

“Then place your leading foot in front of you slightly and your other foot behind that. Make sure to bend your knees slightly,” Dean added. 

 

“Uh huh,” Castiel murmured, moving his feet around.

 

“Good,” Dean smiled, “you wanna try a swing?”

 

“Okay,” Cas said, a little nervously. 

 

“Just follow the ball and swing through your body,” Dean continued, before throwing the ball towards Cas- 

 

And right past him.

“God dammit,” Cas murmured under his breath, as his skin started to flush red. 

 

“Hey! You can try again,” Dean smiled, running to collect the ball, surprisingly not laughing at Cas’ failure. 

 

“Okay,” Castiel said again. 

 

Dean threw the ball again, although this time Cas hit it back merely a few inches from his feet. He looked up at Dean who was smiling at him as he came over to Cas’ side. 

 

“Hey, maybe you should try hold the bat a little tighter,” he said, moving Cas’ grip. 

 

Cas gulped slightly as their fingers brushed, mumbling a quick, “okay.”

 

“Good,” Dean smiled, still close to Castiel’s side. 

 

Castiel coughed a little, making Dean jerk away.

 

“Right yeah- another round?” Dean said, almost nervously.

 

This time, Castiel managed to hit it back a few feet causing D ean to whoop, “yeah Cas! You’re gettin’ better.” 

 

“Thank you,” Cas smiled, “although, I think I’m better at catching.” 

 

Dean laughed, “ain’t nothing wrong with a fielder.” 

 

At this point, Sam came back clutching three branches. 

 

“Who’s batting first?” Sam asked as his planted the branches into the earth in a diamond shape. 

 

“I think Cas, should,” Dean smiled, as Cas’ face turned to slight horror. 

 

“I’m not as good as you too Dean. We established that,” Cas added.

 

“Doesn’t matter, practice makes perfect,” Dean said back. 

 

“Okay then, but I’m fielding afterwards,” Cas said in a regretful manner. 

 

“Of course, me and Sammy always needed a good fielder,” Dean said, causing Sam to laugh. 

 

“Yeah, Mom wasn’t always the best,” Sam added. 

 

They’d played one game, in which Castiel has failed  _ spectacularly.  _ The brother’s had much more practice than him and were certain to triumph over Cas’ poor batting skills- even if Cas had noticed Dean purposefully playing down his catching.

 

_ At least he had a somewhat chance this time round,  _ Castiel thought as he placed himself onto the field. 

 

Sam swung the ball towards Dean, causing him to hit it far into the air again. Cas ran towards it, following it with his eyes and not noticing when he tripped over a sand dune, causing him to fall flat into the sand and the ball to bounce into the water. 

 

“Cas?” he head Sam called, with slight amusement in his voice. 

 

Castiel sat up slightly, brushing down his clothes and spitting out any sand from his mouth.

 

“I’m good,” he called, as Sam met him on the beach. 

 

Sam laughed before adding, “where’s the ball?” 

 

“Uhh-” Castiel replied, starting to look around in the sand, “I’m not sure.”

 

“I’ve got it!” Dean yelled, running past them both, whilst kicking off his boots. 

 

“Dean! What are you-?” Sam called back, as he exchanged a confused look with Cas. 

 

Dean ran into the cool waves, wading until he was knee deep in the water.

 

“Oh shit, it’s cold!” Dean called, instantly wrapping his arms around himself.

 

Sam laughed as pulled off his boots too.

 

“Found it yet?” he asked, treading down into the water.

 

“I thought I had it-” Dean said before plunging his face into the water. 

 

“Dean!” Sam laughed running into join him, “it’s just here,” he added reaching the sodden ball from the water.

 

Dean lifted his head out in a dramatic fashion, shaking his hair and spitting the water out his nose. “I regret doing that,” he declared, rubbing his face down with his half soaked sleeve. 

 

“Of course you do!” Sam laughed, throwing the ball towards Dean and walking back out of the water.

 

“Hey!” Dean shouted back, catching the ball awkwardly, before managing to splash his brother slightly. 

 

Sam turned back in horror, as he ran into the waves to splash Dean back. 

 

“You wanna play that way, hey?” Dean grinned back, drenching Sam’s jacket with up spray from his hands. 

 

Sam just pushed Dean back and before they knew it were both soaked through, causing their thick blue uniforms to stick uncomfortably to their skin. Sam muttered something about being freezing as he gave up and waded back out to lie flat onto the sand. Dean laughed again, before calling for Castiel to join him. 

 

“Come on, Cas! It’s not that cold- really.” 

 

Castiel shook his head back from where he’d been watching the brothers in water with great amusement.

 

“Don’t listen to him,” Sam replied jokingly, as he lifted himself up to brush off the stuck sand grains from his uniform. “Darn, Bobby’s gonna kill us,” he added, muttering to himself. 

 

Cas chuckled to himself, before he turned to see Dean still in the water, but this time stripped down to his undershirt. The water made the white fabric stick to his frame tightly, causing Castiel to stare widely. Quickly realising he was doing so, Cas ducked his burning face to the ground, hoping that Sam didn’t see. Luckily, Sam was still occupied by brushing down all the sand off his uniform in an agitated manner. 

 

“Dean, you’ll get a cold if you stay in their any longer,” Cas called, as he started to walk to the shore. 

 

“I’ve got used to it now,” Dean smiled back, before his expression changed to a smirk. 

 

“Dean-” Castiel warned, before he was hit with salty water. “Dean!” he called again, wiping down his trousers. 

 

“You’ll have to come in now, or I’ll splash you again,” Dean smirked. 

 

“Don’t you dare-”

 

Dean lifted his eyebrows, as he curled his hands in the water. 

 

“-Fine then!” Castiel replied in disgruntled manner, quickly kicking off his boots and jacket, before running into the grey water. 

 

“Oh my god!” Cas cried, grabbing his arms around his body quickly. 

 

“I told you it was cold,” Cas heard Sam call from behind him. 

 

Castiel laughed, before being  hit with a wave of icy water to the face, causing his hair to flop onto his forehead limply. 

 

“Dean!” Cas complained, as Dean burst out laughing, causing those small dimples to rise to his face.

 

“I got you!” Dean smiled through giggles, as he waded towards Castiel. 

 

“No-” Cas warned, awkwardly trying to move backwards from Dean’s next attack. This however, proved more difficult than expected, as Castiel fell backwards into the sea. He quickly emerged again, spitting out a huge amount of water and brushing away his now soaked through hair. Dean was in stitches, quickly retreating away from Castiel’s angered expression. 

 

“Are you okay?” Dean asked, through laughs.

Castiel stared back at him with a bemused expression, as his hair slowly dripped down his face. 

 

“Never been better,” Castiel remarked back, causing Dean to burst out laughing again. 

 

“Come on then, let’s get dry,” Dean smiled, walking towards the beach. 

 

Castiel sighed in agreement, as he dragged his soaked frame towards a laughing Sam. 

 

“Oh my god, what happened?” Sam asked. 

 

Castiel rolled his eyes, as he pointed towards a guilty-looking Dean. 

 

“Dean!” Sam replied in a jokey manner, as Dean pretended to look innocent. 

 

He too was soaked through, save for his hair which had gone frizzy from the salty air. His face was flushed rosy, making his freckles stand out more than usual. Cas suddenly thought that Dean looked incredibly  _ cute.  _

 

_ But that’s just absurd.  _

 

Castiel quickly abandoned that thought, before starting to lead the way back to the village. In all honesty, he hadn’t laughed this hard in ages, even if he was now stirred with those  _ feelings _ again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [MY TUMBLR](https://angelsweardeerstalkers.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Glossary: 
> 
> Sabbath: religious term for Sunday   
> battin': batting  
> 'ere: here  
> 'bit: a bit  
> gettin': getting  
> ain't: isn't  
> darn: another word for 'damn' (mostly an American term)


End file.
